


a fairytale

by aislingthebard



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingthebard/pseuds/aislingthebard
Summary: Gilmore finds some purpose after the destruction of Emon





	a fairytale

“Another one, Gilmore,” cheered the halfling child.

“Yes! Please.” A second child joined in and soon he found himself encircled by a bunch of cheering youngsters, all too eager and bright and wide eyed.

Gilmore bowed deeply. “Such a grateful audience. You’ll have your wish, my dears.” Normally, parlor tricks and carnival magic weren’t his forte, but most of them had lost a mother or father, a sibling, people they loved, and they needed some wonders in their life now.

He’d chosen the most ridiculous robe that he could find within the possession of Whitstone castle. Thick, red brocade, trimmed with silver stitchings in the form of various flowers. Combined with a variety of jewelry, Gilmore thought himself rather fitting for his role as an entertainer.

With a shake of his hands, a slight gust of wind ran through the crowd, and they laughed, forgetting their troubles for a few precious moments.

Gilmore raised his voice. “There was a prince once, beautiful like the night. With hair as black as the feather of a raven and moonlight danced on his skin. His eyes were amber and he was loved by many and hated by a few.” A quick spell and his adoring crowd watched colors swirling together in the very air before them.

“Though, he was not a happy prince. Raised by a stern father, who could never be satisfied with his son, and by a mother, who seemed haunted by the shadows of herself.” Gilmore summoned faint music and they clapped their little hands together. All of them shared the same hollow expression and he sincerely hoped that Whitestone offered a new chance of happiness. The loss of Emon haunted his dreams, too. The cry of dragons, the screams of their victims. Without Vox Machina, he’d be one of them.

Gilmore let fire dance on his fingertips. “Our beautiful prince fell in love with the sun herself. A maiden with fiery hair and eyes so bright that it hurt to look at them for too long.”

Illiya’s mouth stood agape. “Was she really that beautiful?”

“Oh, yes. No fairer maiden ever walked our lands. Flowers blossomed beneath her bare feet and all the wild animals followed her sweet voice.” Illiya appeared enthralled by his story, while her older sister crossed her arms in front of her chest, seemingly doubting his every word. Well, 12 years of age probably meant that fairytales lost their charm. And their father’s loss weighed heavily upon the three siblings.

Gilmore’s magic took the shape of a flock of sparrows, escaping into a cloudy sky.

Thankfully his spectators’ eyes followed them, because a sudden spell of dizziness let dark spots dance in front of his eyes. Gilmore was too proud to actually acknowledge his weakness and faked a cough. 

“I believe that our storyteller will continue tomorrow.” Pike appeared out of nowhere, stepped in front of him and a chorus of sad, complaining children accompanied her words. 

One started to cry quietly.

“He’ll tell even more stories, if you let him rest a bit. Our prince and princess will surely met tomorrow.” Her argument worked and Gilmore heard them laugh again, as they took off one after another. Such a sweet sound. It spoke of hope and new beginnings.

Pike’s eyes wandered to his side. “Do your wounds still trouble you?”

“Only when I move.” Gilmore offered Pike a weak smile. They’d healed him, changed his bandages and brought him to Whitestone. A new home, much colder to what he was used to and on the brink of recovery, after being nearly destroyed itself. But an obvious lack of dragons certainly spoke for taking up residence here.

Gilmore stubbornly ignored his thoughts of Vax and his warm hands running through his hair, his face the last beautiful thing in his world. Such emotions were a thing of a past now, buried in the ruins of his shop.

Pike didn’t look impressed with his humor, though, rather stern and impressive, even without her armor. “You should rest.”

Gilmore took to a nearby chair and raised his arms. “Sadly, I lack the makings of someone, who is able to lay still for generous amounts of time.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to see it through completely, but I’m sworn to oversee your recovery and my friends will be very disappointed with me, if I don’t follow my orders.” Pike took her role as his guardian rather serious, accompanying him throughout the day, sitting at the side of his bed. Thankful for the company, Gilmore accepted a certain lack of privacy, but he missed being on his own, tinkering with magical items and filling his life with some kind of direction.

Gilmore nodded in defeat. “That is a fair point.”

“So?” Pike raised her brows, waiting for his answer.

“Rest it will be, my sweet gaoler.”


End file.
